


Chaos at Downton Abbey

by SoldierOfMyShadowyMind



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: (very important) shirts, Alfred is being bullied, Birthday Party, Cake, Carson's eyebrows, Fluff, Humour, Jimmy makes a fool of himself, M/M, Romance, Spiders, Thomas is as smug as ever, courtyard chats, plotting Jimmy, schemes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:43:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4044589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoldierOfMyShadowyMind/pseuds/SoldierOfMyShadowyMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Lady Edith's birthday and everyone is busy to prepare the welcome for the guests. Meanwhile Jimmy tries everything to get rid of Alfred. But Thomas always interferes and Jimmy starts to think about him more often...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Plotting the scheme

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is kind of old stuff since we're already past series 5 but I've only began posting all my fics up here, too, so there are some more (post) s3 Thommy works to come. The title isn't very crafty but I could't think of anything better.  
> I apologise in advance for the completely stupid plot and everything. If you find any mistakes, keep them, they're presents!  
> Okay, hope you this enjoy this anyway!
> 
> Next chapter on 6th June

“Alfred! Watch out you damn idiot!”

“Oops, sorry Jimmy. Didn’t see you.”

“Of course you didn’t. You don’t have eyes in your bloody head!” I said and looked down on my now wet uniform. This dunce had dropped his tea on me! Am I a sink?! Honestly, what does he think he is that can treat me like this?! I’m first footman!

“WHAT is going on here?!” Carson’s voice boomed from outside the servants’ hall.

“I was telling Alfred what a useless git he is and-“ Wait. Did I say that loud? Oh no. This has to be corrected immediately. No, not corrected. _Justified_. That’s the word.

Since when do I need to justify my actions?

“I mean I was just chatting with Alfred about the lovely weather outside and-“

“It’s stormy and it’s raining cats and dogs! I don’t think that’s a very nice weather” Ivy interjected.

Arrrggghh! Why does this silly girl always has to let me look like a fool when the fool is actually standing next to me?

“I see” Mr Carson said in a deep and not very pleased tone. “Now I suggest you better get upstairs and change your livery, James. And you Alfred, put that cup down and get back to your work. I guess you have plenty of it? If not I can certainly think of something meaningful for you to do…“

“No, Mr Carson. You’re right. There’s much work for me.”

Wow that’s the first thing that does actually make sense I heard from Alfred in weeks.

I shot him a last furious look and then stalked out of the servants' hall just to bump into another chest. Looking up I already opened my mouth to say something rude when I saw who I almost ran over.

“Mr Barrow?”

“James.”

“Oh. Um, could you let me pass? I need to change my livery.”

“Interesting.” Interesting? Why’s that?

“A little accident?” he continued.

“Well, if you call Alfred having his tea poured over me an accident, then _yes_. Now can I…”

He smirked. But got out of my way nonetheless. I quickly shoved past him and stomped up the stairs.

 

Strange man. He always smirks. I think he’s laughing at me whenever he gets the chance.

 

Went to my room and found a clean (and dry!) livery. While I was putting it on I was thinking. And I came to the conclusion that I have to get rid of Alfred. His dullness makes me go insane! And I definitely don’t want to end up locked away in a lunatic asylum. So I’m going to figure out a plan to get Alfred sacked. That’s it!

 

* * *

 

Everyone keeps rushing around bustling about Lady Edith’s birthday. Honestly, why does everybody make such a fuss about it? It’s only Lady Edith! No one gives a bloody damn about my birthday! So why should I-

 

“James? May I know what you are doing there?”

I spun around, startled. Mr Carson stood behind me gazing at me in a very alarming way.

“Err, yes Mr Carson, I…” What was I doing? I was standing there in the hall shaking my head at all the fussing about people and frowning at my silly task at hand. I had been ordered to help with the decoration. Putting up flower garlands and stuff. I love flowers. They’re so beautiful and they smell so good! Just like me. But those flowers were for Lady Edith so…

May have _accidentally_ arranged them in an inappropriate manner.

In fact I tried to make a tripping hazard with the garlands.

That’s just what Lady Edith deserves! But how am I explaining that to Mr I’m-determined-to-this-family-Carson?

“Err…I…The garlands just fell on the ground and I wanted to pick them up so that I can rearrange them properly. Yes, that’s exactly what I was doing” I nodded vigorously to confirm my totally senseless answer.

Carson quirked an eyebrow, saying,

“Then I hope you get it done quickly. We still have a lot of work to be done before Lady Edith’s birthday. I don’t want to see my footmen hanging around uselessly. Did I make that clear?”

“Yes Mr Carson. Very clear.” My footmen? Did he say _my_ footmen? Since when did he bloody _own_ me?! Did I miss something? Frowned at his back when he was walking away in his _I’m-so-holy_ pace.

 

As luck would have it Alfred came up to me at this very moment.

“Oi, Jimmy!”

Sighed annoyed and turned around to face my fate.

“Alfred. How pleased I am to see you.”

He didn’t seem to even notice the sarcastic undertone in my words and just kept talking like a waterfall about daft things like that dumb kitchen maid.

“Ivy keeps smiling at me! She says I’m such a nice kind! And she said she liked my hair!” He was grinning like a fool.

“Did she? Oh, well that’s something I suppose.” How can she like his hair? It’s ginger! No one likes ginger hair! Mine is golden and smooth and styled accurately and it has this significant shimmer only my hair can have. Not that I need Ivy to convince me that I’m the most handsome man in this household. Certainly I don’t need that. I mean, this is _Ivy_! She’s just as daft as Alfred. They would make quite a good couple. Their dullness put together into one silly item.

“Oh yes and she said I have so quick and talented hands” he babbled on. Quick and talented to throw your tea over me. Oh Lord, when is this going to end?

I shut my ears and rolled my eyes. Couldn’t bear to listen to that dunce anymore.

 

* * *

 

As if the day couldn’t get any worse, Alfred made an announcement at dinner.

“I’m going out with Ivy tonight.”

Mr Carson’s head shot up in one snatchy movement as he dropped his fork. “You are doing what?”

“I’m going out with Ivy tonight. Can I Mr Carson?”

You just said you would do it and then you ask for permission. That’s Alfred. Nothing more needs to be said on that.

“Well, you might go but tomorrow I want full focus on the work” Carson said decidedly.

What?

 _‘You might go’_?! He doesn’t still prefer that sad beanpole over me, does he?

“But Mr Carson! He’s done nothing all the day except being in everyone’s way! Why does he get the evening off?” Shit. Should have kept my bloody mouth shut.

“Well, I believe it’s still on me to decide who of the staff gets an evening off. And I kindly recommend to you to mind your words, James.”

Well, obviously he _does_ prefer Alfred over me.

Just nodded and voiced a hoarse, “Of course, Mr Carson.”

 

This day is a disaster.

And it got even more of a disaster when Mr Carson got me punished for my behaviour at dinner.

Now I’m locked in the servants' hall with a huge amount of silver before me on the table waiting to be polished. It almost seems as if it was grinning mockingly at me, saying,

“That’s what you get when you debate with Carson.”

Extra silver polishing as punishment for something I said that was actually the sheer truth!

 

As if this wasn’t enough Mr Barrow sauntered into the servants' hall just seconds after I heard the door to the courtyard being squeezed shut.

“James. Still down here?” he teased. I could virtually hear the sarcasm dripping out of his cocky voice.

“What do you think?” I muttered angrily under my breath.

He stood in the doorway keeping his gaze and his disgusting smile at me. I turned to face him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I demanded.

“Because” came the mocking answer.

I snorted. Who does he think he is?

“You don’t need to polish a whole in it” he commented.

“Would you please just let me doing my work?”

“Well then. I’ll leave you to it.” And with that he was gone. I frowned at the empty space before me.  

 

Rude man.

 

* * *

 

Ha! I made up a plan! And it’s brilliant! I’m so clever and crafty!

 

I woke up this morning with a sledgehammer stomping inside of my head. I definitely sleep too little. After polishing all that silver yesterday night I went to bed at nearly 1.30 am! (okay, that’s slightly exaggerated but only slightly!)

But I came up with a plan how I could finally get rid of Alfred. Let’s see how it works.

 

* * *

 

When I came down for breakfast everyone was already sitting at the table. So I just took a seat and quickly glanced around. Noticed that Mr Barrow was looking at me. That bloody smirk! I’m going to wipe it off his face and kill him if he doesn’t stop smirking in that smug way!

The breakfast continued and I sat there staring grumpily into my tea.

 

The day passed by rather uneventfully. We were taking trays up and down and putting everything at the right place. All this boring and needless work for the birthday of that ugly creature. Lady – what was her name?

I really can’t understand this.

 

Mr Barrow just cornered me in a deserted corridor.

“You look tired today.” He was obviously referring to my nightly work.

“Thank you. I don’t need everybody to tell me I’m looking like shit!”

“You said that. But you did a good job last night. The silver is shining like never before. Carson is very pleased.”

“Good to hear.” Aha. Carson was pleased? Well, I will be pleased this evening when Alfred’s eventually thrown out.

 

Alfred keeps standing in my way. I almost knocked him over when I was turning around, a tray full of half-filled brandy glasses in hand.

“Damn it, Alfred! Watch your way!”

Silently cursed him. How can one man be that useless?

“Mr Carson told me I should help you with the drawing room.”

“Then it would be very kind if you’d just take this down _without_ dropping it. I suppose we don’t need anyone slipping onto a pile of broken glass in a puddle of brandy and causing a bloody mess.”

From Alfred’s expression I could tell that my words had hit the bull’s eye.

 

Mr Carson ordered me to put up some other garlands.

“And this time properly.” He stressed the word ‘properly’ very extremely. Only Alfred could have missed it.

Since I wasn’t allowed to create tripping hazards I tied them very loosely. When Alfred entered the room I winked him over.

“Alfred, would you help me?”

“Ay, just a sec!”

He waddled towards me. I pointed at a piece of the garland that was hanging lifelessly from the ceiling.

“Pull that one down” I instructed him.

Alfred, just like a good servant, obeyed. He climbed up the ladder and reached out a long slim arm and grabbed the garland. What he didn’t notice was the fact that I had arranged it around an empty bucket that still stood on the ledge. So when he pulled it down the bucket flew down the ledge and straight onto Alfred’s head. He stumbled and together with the ladder he fell backwards to the floor where he landed with a loud clatter. I almost burst into laughter when I saw him lying there like a beetle on the back, struggling to free himself from his burden. That sight was just too deliciously funny!

Alarmed by the ruckus Mr Carson and a few maids, who were cleaning one of the rooms, hurried towards us.

“Alfred! What is going on here?!” Carson demanded.

Alfred babbled something incomprehensible still trying to crawl out of the mess.

I watched the scene from above. I was nearly shaking with laughter that I almost fell from my own ladder.

Maybe this day isn’t all boring and dull.

 

* * *

 

Now the time has come! The time to perform my plan! Alfred will definitely get sacked!

 

When we were serving dinner I stealthily tripped him up and all the hot sauce he was carrying on the tray was thrown into the air and landed with a loud _splash_ on Lady Mary’s dress. She squealed – as did Alfred – and stared, completely flabbergasted, at the mess before her. Because Alfred lay on the ground right before her feet, his hands clutching the tablecloth as he tried to stand up. Unfortunately this wasn’t the best idea he ever had and so he pulled the tablecloth with all the plates and food on it with him to the ground. I could hardly repress the overwhelming urge to burst into a fit of laughter. Alfred was making such a show!

Carson stood at the side watching it all with wide eyes, mouth agape. This moment was the best of my life!

Matthew Crawley stood up pulling Alfred back on his feet and then helping his wife to recover from the shock. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Lady Edith hiding a smile with one hand. Obviously she was quite amused about the way her sister was being treated.  

Alfred stood there rooted to the spot not able to move or even apologize for what had just happened. Carson stepped up to him his face revealing all the anger of the whole world.

“What was that?” he scowled.

Alfred was still too upset to say anything. I couldn’t resist to grin just slightly. This was too funny! Alfred would be chided IN FRONT OF HIS LORDSHIP and then bye bye!

 

* * *

 

Bugger!

 

My plan didn’t work. Alfred’s still here and he is still getting on my nerves! Need a new plan. Immediately. But I have to be careful. Because my last plan didn’t work very well. Actually it didn’t work at all. I was certain Carson would throw Alfred out after this “accident” but he didn’t! In fact he apologised for Alfred’s very inappropriate behaviour with some silly excuses and then let him go! He got out of that with only a telling-off and furrowed bushy eyebrows. (Mr Carson really needs to do something about his eyebrows. They’re quite scaring!) And the best of all: _I_ was made responsible for that disaster! Well, not really but instead of congratulating me for having stayed so calm and professional Carson scolded me for not stepping in and helping to clear that mess up! Unbelievable!

 

Now I’m downstairs in the kitchen watching Daisy debate with Mrs Patmore over the dinner for Lady Edith’s birthday. There’s no other topic in this bloody household than the stupid Lady’s birthday! My Lord, that’s so annoying! If I were Daisy I would poison the food. Or at least secretly pour knockout drops into her wine.

Maybe I can ask Daisy to do that? She definitely owes me something!

(And even if not, who cares? I’m first footman! I can order her to do it, can’t I?)

 

* * *

 

Have made a new plan! And this time it’s foolproof! I’m going to let Alfred look like the idiot he is. Then the others will realise how useless he is and Carson will sack him!

 

Operation _get the ninny sacked_ has started!

Have just told Alfred that Ivy fancies him. (This is the greatest idea I ever had! He’s always banging on about that daft kitchen maid so…)

“What? Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Why would I tell you if I wasn’t?”

“Because you’re mean?”

Oh, Alfred, I’m going to kill you if you don’t shut up!

“No, because I’m the kindest and most sympathetic man on this earth. And the most handsome one.”

Smiled wickedly when I said the last sentence.

Alfred just stared at me. (Must have looked quite scaring telling from his expression.)

“Well, if you say it…”

“Oh, yes, I say it and I think you should immediately go and tell her your feelings” I urged him.

“Yeah. You’re right. I’m gonna tell her now.” He nodded decidedly.

“I’m always right” I muffled but followed him nevertheless.

So, as we walked into the kitchen, Alfred waltzed straight over to Ivy and kissed her on the cheek.

Urgh! The poor girl. She’s stupid and doesn’t have a brain but that’s definitely the last I would wish on her. Being kissed by Alfred! I shivered slightly with discomfort at that disgusting and at the same time scaring thought.

Ivy shrieked and spun around in – what I think – was nauseated surprise. She _accidentally_ hit him with her spatula directly in his dumb face. Alfred, completely startled, stumbled back and stared at the cooking utensil which was still wavering threateningly above him.

I allowed myself to puff my chest just slightly and adjusted my uniform. With a triumphant smile I sauntered away.

 

I’m outside now. Can still hear Ivy screeching and yelling at Alfred. That was definitely my best idea! Though one thing keeps me puzzled. This scene somehow reminds me of the night when Mr Barrow came into my room to-

No. I’m NOT going to think about that again! Have thought about it too many times now.

I was just yelling at him like Ivy is yelling at Alfred right now…

Shut up! Mr Barrow is a smug bastard! A professional one, though, but he’s a bastard! Full stop.

Of bloody course.

Who just came out into the courtyard? Mr slick-head Bastard. (That’s my new name for him. Fits him quite well.)

“What’s going on in there?” he asked, stepping up to me.

“Alfred and Ivy are having an argument” I replied flatly.

“Obviously. But who put them up to it?” He shot me a knowing – and smug! Arrggh! – smile.

“Oh, just shut up.”

“I’ve heard you’re behind that dinner-accident.” That wasn’t a question.

“Who told you that?” I glanced up to him.

A smirk. “You just did.”

Well, shit.

An awkward silence settled between us. I watched him through the corner of my eye. He fished his package of cigarettes out of his pocket in one swift movement. Seconds later smoke was pouring from his damn red lips.

  
“What do you hope to achieve by that?” asked the pillar of smoke.

“What?”

“Why are you treating Alfred like that?”

“Oh, please, don’t defend him! He’s a tosser!”

“Didn’t know you can be so mean, James.”

“Well, now you know.”

“Right.”

Why can’t he just go? I don’t want to chat with him!

“There are guests coming the day after tomorrow. For Lady Edith’s birthday” he suddenly said.

“What?”

I must have sounded disastrously daft because he looked at me like I was completely stupid.

“Lords and Ladies. Lords who might need a valet” he hinted.

Now it began to dawn on me.

“So you’re saying…”

“I’m just saying there’ll be some guests. Nothing more.”

Smiled at the ground. Alfred you’re no longer safe in this house!

 

Thank you, Mr Barrow. Just this time thank you!


	2. Spiders and conversation

Today’s the last day before the guests are coming. I have to present myself in my best shape so that I will be the valet of one of these Lords or Sirs. That would make me Alfred’s superior! But I need to prepare a little so that Carson prefers me over that ninny.

So I hid a frighteningly big spider in Alfred’s room. I know he’s afraid of spiders so that’s a good way to make him look like a coward.

 

Success!

 

Just heard a terrified scream coming from his room. Seconds later he was running down the corridor hysterically waving his hands through the air. (Poor air. Getting beaten up and down and churned up by Alfred’s grabby paws.)

When I was descending the stair case I heard Mrs Hughes call,

“Alfred! What’s the matter with you? You’re as pale as a sheet!”

“Th-the-there’s a- a- a spider in my room!” Alfred stammered helplessly.

I could only imagine Mrs Hughes’ look. Chuckled. That’s going to be weird.

“A spider?” the housekeeper asked suspiciously.

“A big one!”

I was just descending the last few steps to see Alfred spreading his arms ridiculously wide to underline his explanation.

With a grin I walked past them, not able to repress a mocking “You’re afraid of spiders, Alfred?”

“But it was big!” Alfred insisted.

Shook my head and continued on my way to the servant’s hall. I almost reached the door when Mr Barrow walked out of the room shooting an amused smile at me.

“That one was good” he murmured while shoving past me. I looked after him, confused. Yesterday he told me to stop it and now he’s even congratulating me! This man obviously isn’t able to decide on whose side he is!

Not that I need him on my side. I mean _him_? No. Certainly not.

But still, what he said was…nice. Refreshing even. And the smile did reach his eyes. A rare sight. He still had this mocking glare in his icy eyes but nevertheless he truly smiled. At me!

Not that this means anything to me. (Maybe just a little bit.) (No. Nothing.) (NOTHING.)

 

At breakfast Mr Carson made an announcement.

“Tomorrow is Lady Edith birthday and there are a lot of guests coming as you all know.”

A lot? Surely mostly man only to find one passably bearable git they can marry her off to.

“I expect excellent behaviour and for today extra hard work to get it all done before the end of the day.”

Of course. What else would he expect? But I have more important things to do than to prepare Lady Edith birthday. She has ugly hair!

But still. Need to show my best side to Carson. Must. Because if I want to be a valet – which I DO – I have to be in his favour – which I’m obviously NOT.

 

Mr Barrow just asked me where I got the spider from.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Just that.”

“And why do you want to know?”

“To accidentally drop one into the dinner sauce.”

“Really? Oh, imagine Lady Edith eating a spider!” I laughed. Was not the best idea.

“James?”

“Yes?”

“Why do you want to kill Lady Edith?”

Looked up at him, startled. His pale blue eyes were cutting through mine.

Oh my God! Those eyes make me go crazy!

No, they do NOT. And won’t ever. There you have it.

“I don’t want to kill her! I just want to-“ Shut up Jimmy!

“What?” His voice was rough. He stared at me like a hungry lion.

I lowered my head and shot sideways glances around just to see if there was anyone who could help me out of this horrible situation. Of course there was no one.

“to… have a nice birthday. Yes I want her to have a nice birthday. That’s all.” Did I convince him?

“And you think being served spider-sauce would be a nice birthday present?”

Obviously not.

“Why not? I mean, spiders are delicious, don’t you think?” Oh god I have to stop this immediately!

“No, I’d rather not say.”

“Um…” Think of something clever Jimmy!

“In France they eat them every day. And in China.” Was that clever?

“Oh, is that so? Well, I don’t think that this is France or China.”

I hate it when he has a point.

What now Jimmy?

“But a little change wouldn’t hurt, would it?” Didn’t I say I wanted to STOP this?!

“Why do you keep banging on about it?” Now he sounded angry.

“I’m not ‘banging on’ about it! YOU started this!” Oh no, Jimmy. Get ready for a scolding from Carson. Because Barrow will certainly tell him about this.

He didn’t tell Carson about the dinner-thing. And about the spider in Alfred’s room. Why?

Does he still fancy me? No, I don’t think he does. I mean why would he tease me all the time? Because he’s a rude and cruel man. Yes that’s it. Rude and cruel with steely eyes that slice through your chest and into your heart and make your brain spin around so that you can’t think t straight anymore.

Why do I always have to think about his eyes when I see him?

Just realised that I think about him a little too much. That’s not good. Maybe I’m ill? Maybe I should see Dr Clarkson? Probably I’m seriously sick. I mean why would I waste any thought about Mr Barrow if I wasn’t sick? He’s annoying and rude and cruel and annoying and rude (I had this already, did I?) and his eyes are even more evil and-

Now I just realised that I was still standing here in front of Mr Barrow thinking about him! And the worst thing: I must have said some of my thoughts out LOUD!

Because Barrow just asked, “Who do think about?”

My head shot up. The spider was totally forgotten.

“No- no one” I stammered. ARGH! Why does my bloody voice always have to crack in such situations?!

“But you said you are thinking about someone.”

“And what’s it to you? I can think about who I want! That’s none of your business!” Oh, world, please crash down on me now! This is so embarrassing!

“I didn’t mean to offend you.” This sentence was said quietly. So quietly that I almost missed it.

I looked up. He didn’t want to offend me? Was he _apologizing? Was he apologizing for mocking me?_

“What?” I managed. Well, that was certainly not a very clever answer.

“I’m sorry if I offended you” he repeated, his voice low. “I mean you said something like you’re not feeling well. Shall I call Dr Clarkson? Do you want to rest a bit? I’m sure Carson will understand if…”

“No, no, thank you Mr Barrow, I’m perfectly alright.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I am sure! Now would you just leave me alone?” Damn it Jimmy! He just apologized for saying what he said and now you’re destroying this precious moment!

Did I say precious? I mean dangerous. Yes, this conversation is extremely dangerous. I have to watch out what I’m saying.

“Well, I better get back to my work then. Good day, Mr Barrow” I mumbled hastily and rushed away.

God, this man is exhausting! You never know what he does or says next. I must get more control over my words. I can’t let this happen a second time. Was embarrassing enough this morning.

 

Oh my goodness, what am I going to do now? I can’t look him in the eyes anymore. Not after that! Maybe I should have accepted the offer and gone to bed. Bugger! Why didn’t I do that? Okay, I have to think of something else to cheer me up. Hm… Alfred’s still here… Need to change that.

 

* * *

 

Ivy is a nasty piece of rotten flesh!

 

Was in the kitchen for some chat when she asked me,

“What were you talking about with Mr Barrow?”

Spun around. “What? That’s none of your damn business! I can talk to whoever I want about whatever I want! So shut up and keep your nose out of my affairs!” Was that too harsh? (Note to self: Must stop saying _What_ all the time. Doesn’t sound very manly.)

Ivy stared at me as if I had just smacked her in the face. (I think I should have done exactly that. Would have made her shut up.)

“What did I say?” she wept.

I looked away. Not that I felt guilty (never!) but she looked genuinely hurt.

“Nothing” I mumbled. “Nothing.” And with that I rushed out of the room.

Just to bump into Alfred.

“Oi, Jimmy! Where are you off to?”

“Nowhere” I said, annoyed. Where is my luck gone?

“Ivy looks quite pale. What happened?” Alfred urged me.

“Go and ask her yourself. I have work to do now.”

 

God, I’m going to kill Alfred!

 

* * *

 

I have decided that I have to be more offensive if I want to achieve my goal.

So I just went to Carson’s office and knocked on the door.

“Yes” came the grouchy reply.

I opened the door so fiercely that it almost crashed against the wall.

Mr Carson’s head shot up at the sudden noise. “What the…James!”  
“Hello, Mr Carson.”

“I hope you have a good explanation for this loud appearance?”

“Indeed I have, Mr Carson. I wanted to inform you about Alfred’s behaviour. Because I think he’s acting rather inappropriate as of late.” My voice was calm and strong. Ha!

“What do you imply?”

“I think it’s wrong not to tell you and-“

“Then why don’t you just tell me right away?” Carson interrupted. Hey! He’s destroying my well-considered plan! It took me a full hour to prepare this!

“Well, he…he was in your office going through your belongings.”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“That’s what I saw, Mr Carson.”

“Are you sure?” Carson’s face looked thunderous. Why does everybody ask me if I’m sure? Of bloody course I am!

“Yes, Mr Carson. He stood right here, in front of your desk holding some papers in his hands.”

“Well, I must say I’m speechless. When did this happen?”

“Just some days ago. I wasn’t sure what I should do so I didn’t speak up but then I thought it isn’t right to let him get away with this so I decided to inform you about it.”

“And you decided right. Well, I’m certainly going to ask him about this. He should better have a very good answer.” And with that Carson stood up and hurried out of the room.

 

Ha! That’s your end, Alfred! Good riddance!

 

* * *

 

“Alfred?”

Alfred looked up from his spoon. “Yes, Mr Carson?”

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

“I don’t know what you mean Mr Carson.”

Oh no. Please, God, no!

“James complained about your behaviour today.”

No, this is getting out of my control! I thought he already spoke with him! Oh, cruel fate! How could I know he would actually ask him at dinner?!

“Did he?” Bates asked somewhat ironically from the other end of the table. Why does he always have to barge in?!

“Yes, he said you were in my office searching through my belongings” Carson’s head turned back to Alfred.

“But that’s not true! I’ve never done anything wrong!” Alfred nearly cried. “I’m only doin’ me work properly! Always!”

Oh, Alfred! Listen to yourself! You’re talking such nonsense!

“Is that true, James?” Carson demanded with his eyebrows furrowed threateningly.

“Ah, well, you see...” I stammered. How do I get out of this?! “I thought it was him and so I-“

“And you thought inventing some false story about Alfred would be a good idea?” Carson demanded judgingly.

“No, I thought- I was wrong, Mr Carson and I’m sorry but-“

“It’s my fault.”

I stopped at this and looked up. Who had said that? I gazed around the table when I saw Mr Barrow shooting me a glare that said _‘Don’t you dare say anything now!’_ I stared at him in bewilderment. What was he doing there?

“I was looking for a letter in your office when Alfred suddenly came and asked me something. He stood right in front of me so maybe James got the impression that he was alone in the room” Mr Barrow continued calmly.

“Is that true, Alfred?” Carson asked not fully convinced.

Alfred seemed to be wholly overstrained. “Err…”

“I’m sorry, Mr Carson, I should have told you” Mr Barrow interjected. Why was he doing this? Why was he helping me? I thought he hated me! Or at least I thought he didn’t like me because he’s so rude and mocking and arrogant all the time.

“Well, I think that clears it up. I might let you get away with it this time but I recommend to you to be more careful from now on.” The butler’s eyes were set on me. I shifted uncomfortably.

“Yes, Mr Carson. I’m sorry” I mumbled.

“Let’s drop this now. I don’t wish to hear any more nonsense about it is that clear?” He extended the last words so extremely I almost thought he would fall asleep while saying them.

I nodded awkwardly. “Very good, Mr Carson.”

 

God, what an atrocious day! I definitely need fresh air now to rearrange my chaotic mind!

 

When I finally got away from that horrible situation I let out a deep sigh of relief. Sitting in the courtyard I watched the stars spread across the nightly sky. My God, my operation is not very successful. Another sigh. This is getting out of my hand. I really have to think of something better.

 

Just realised that the guests are coming tomorrow! Carson will never allow me to be a valet! I will stay a bloody footman for the rest of my life. And I’m going to be alone for the rest of my damn life!

 

Not that I need anybody. I just mean…

Would be nice having a real friend. More than just a friend. Even more than a best mate. A friend friend. Someone who’s there for me. Someone who comforts me when I’m sad. Someone like…

 

“James?”

I almost fell from the small bench I was sitting on. What the…?!

Thomas Barrow emerged from the foggy air, cigarette stuck between his lips.

“Why are you sitting out here all on your own?” Pardon? What kind of question is that?!

“What do think?” I mumbled. “I’m being scolded all day long and everybody thinks I’m a bloody fool and-”

“I don’t think that.”

“What?”

“You’re not a fool, Jimmy.” Did he just call me _Jimmy_?

“You’re not joking?”

“Of course not. Why would I be joking?” He squatted down next to me.

“Don’t know… Because you hate me?” I offered.

He stared at me with wide eyes.

“I hate you?” he asked.

“Yes?” I said.

“Why?”

“Because you’re teasing me whenever you get the chance?”

“Is that so?”

“Could you please stop asking questions?! I’m trying to think of something sensible to say!”

“Oh, go on then.” There it was again. This mocking, snotty tone. I’m going to strangle him!

“There! You’re doing it again!”  
“What?” he asked innocently.

“Being rude!”

“Really?”

That was enough. “Thomas!”

Two pale blue eyes were staring at me from under two black lifted eyebrows.

“I mean _Mr Barrow_!”

He snorted.

I scowled at him and then looked away, pretending to be busy with counting the stones on the ground.

“You wanted to say something” came his calm voice.

“Did I?”

“Something sensible, to be precise.”

Wanted to smack him. Why can’t this man be quiet for one bloody minute?!

“Why did you help me? At dinner? You never were in Carson’s room nor was Alfred” I finally managed.  
“I know.” He said.

“And?” I pressed. Do I really have to drag every single word out of him?

He smirked. “Would you prefer it if I didn’t save you?”

“No! Of course not! I just want to know why you did it!”

“Because you obviously needed help.”

“And that’s all?”

“Yes, that’s all.”

He fell silent. Neither of us said a word for the next few minutes. Just as the silence began to feel awkward, he said,

“You need to stop teasing Alfred.”

I raised my head and glanced at him in surprise. “But you don’t like him either! He’s a stupid ginger-haired beanpole!”

A smug smile combined with a perfectly arched eyebrow was my answer.

“Just don’t do it so obviously. You have to be subtle if you want to achieve something.” Was he encouraging me?

“I am subtle! Anyway, Alfred doesn’t get it when I’m too subtle!” I defended myself. What? I don’t need to defend myself! Not in front of that man!

A light chuckle.

“You think what you’re doing is being subtle?”

“Yes. Why not?”

“You could hardly be more obvious, Jimmy. It’s as if you’re running around with “I hate Alfred” written on your shirt.”

Am I really that bad? Oh God.

“And what do you suggest Mr I-know-everything?” I snapped grumpily.

“Oh, I’m not here to give you any stupid ideas” he said.

“You’re not? And why are you here actually?”

He chuckled again. “To cheer you up.”

“Oh, and how are you going to do this?”

“Hm…” He pulled his hand from behind his back and held it out to me. I didn’t notice that he was hiding it all the time. Somewhat surprised I stared at his open hand. On a serviette there lay a tiny slice of cake.

“For me?” I asked, touched.

“Yes.”

“Are you crazy? What if Mrs Patmore finds out?”

“So you don’t want it?” He almost sounded disappointed.

“Of course I want it!” I screeched and snapped it from his hand. I looked at the precious sight for a while before I broke off a wee piece and stuffed it into my mouth. It was delicious! I turned around and smiled at him. “Thank you” I mumbled with my mouth full of cake.

He smiled back. And this time the smile reached his eyes. “Better than spiders, eh?” he taunted.

I frowned at him but couldn’t hold it for long. Finally I found myself laughing. “Apparently.”

He shook his head in light amusement.

I ate the rest of the cake. Maybe he isn’t that rude?

 

We talked until I was almost falling asleep on the bench. I could barely keep my eyes open.

“You should go to bed, Jimmy. The guests are coming tomorrow and I don’t want my footman to be dozing off all the time.” Thomas finally said.

My footman? Sounds nice…

“Hm? But I don’t want to! I’m not tired at all, see?” I rearranged myself on the small bench. I couldn’t prevent my arm brushing against his for a split second. He felt…warm and…smooth. Would have been a very comfortable bed.

“You’re as sleepy as Isis when she has one of her lazy moments.” Did he compare me to a dog? But who cares? I mean this is Thomas!

“What?” But because he was right, and because I really _was_ tired and sleepy, it came out like “Uuuaaad?”

He laughed quietly. “Ok, you funny one, let me help you.”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me from the bench. I stumbled as my feet had to manage my full weight and felt my foot slip on a nasty stone. The next thing I felt was some soft fabric pressed against my face.

“Jimmy! Watch out!” The voice dragged me back into reality. I tried to regain my balance and finally stood my own two feet, my head lowered so that I didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

”Sorry” I mumbled.

“Never mind.” His voice was soft. Just as soft as the fabric of his suit. “Come on, let’s get inside before I have to carry you upstairs.” Oh, I wouldn’t object to that. Once more I felt his grip around my arm dragging me inside. I stumbled after him and followed him up the stairs to the servant’s quarters. When we finally reached my door he let go of my arm and said “Goodnight, Jimmy.”

I glanced up at him. “Night Thomas” I murmured. He shot me a slightly annoyed glare but didn’t say anything. He waited till I was in my room lying safe and sound in my bed (with my livery still on). Then I heard my door shut with a quiet _click_ and I knew he was gone. I smiled at the darkness in my room and closed my eyes.

Have decided that Mr Barrow isn’t wholly rude and mean. Can be quite nice if he wants to.

 

What if he’s right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was chapter two. Only one to go before this silly story ends. I hope you enjoyed it so far. ;)  
> The last chapter's going to be up next week.


	3. Shirts and Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this is neither next week nor June or anything near that and I'm truly sorry for the enormous delay. I had exams to study for and uni was consuming all of my time. So sorry again!  
> I hope you like the ending, it's just as silly as the rest of it *hides*  
> Have fun and thanks to all for reading!

Today’s a new day. And today the guests are coming. I have to be the best footman in the world! Have to be Thomas’ footman.

 

What?

 

_WHAT?!_

No, no, no. That’s wrong. Not _his_ footman. Just the best and most handsome, hard-working footman who has ever walked this earth. That’s it. Much better. Carson will definitely choose me.

 

Have thought about it. Mr Barrow _is_ right. I have to be more subtle if I want to get rid of Alfred.

 

Breakfast went frightfully well. No scolding, no taunting comment from Mr Barrow (not good when I call him Thomas. He doesn’t like that and to be honest it’s a bit scaring. He’s my superior. And he’s not my friend anyway.)

 

Now I’m in the kitchen thinking about what to do next as far as my mission is concerned. I must come up with a _very_ good idea. Not that easy. On the contrary, it’s rather difficult to figure out a plan when everyone around you is yelling and shouting and rushing around.

Suddenly I had the feeling as if the room had lit up in some way. I looked up, quickly glancing around to see what happened when I noticed Mr Barrow leaning in the doorway. He wasn’t looking in my direction but I could feel his presence very strongly. And I mean _very_ strongly. He has the strange talent to light up every room he walks into. Sounds weird and _is_ weird but it’s true.

 

 

I must stop thinking about him! Isn’t good for my health. And I have more important things to do than to think about that incomprehensible man.

 

* * *

 

Keep running into Mr Barrow. Is he following me? He always seems to be everywhere around me.

 

“James. Where are you off to?”

“What? Nowhere. I have to bring that tray upstairs.”

 

“James! Watch your way!”

“You’re in _my_ way!”

 

“James! Would you take that _thing_ out of my face?”

“It’s not a _thing_! It’s a baby ladybird! Look at it, isn’t it sweet?”

“You’re exhausting.”

 

ARGH! This is getting on my nerves! _HE_ is getting on my nerves! Why do I always run into him wherever I go?! Pah! That’ll definitely have consequences!

 

What did he say last night?

_‘It’s as if you’re running around with “I hate Alfred” written on your shirt.’_

 

Shirts... What a lovely idea! Yes! Ha! He’ll be sorry for distracting me from giving my best to impress Carson! Plus it’ll get Alfred sacked! Eventually! Revenge is sweet.

 

* * *

 

Success!

 

SUCCESS!  


I’m a valet!

 

I’m a proper valet!

 

YES!

 

Carson came up to me just a couple of minutes ago and told me that,

“James, Lord Blackwood’s valet got ill yesterday so that he couldn’t come with His Lordship to Downton. I want you to attend on him for the time he’s here. You need a bit of training and I think Lord Blackwood is rather uncomplicated so I think you can manage.”

“Of course I can manage, Mr Carson! I’ll do my best!”

“I hope so.”

 

Oooohhh, I’m so excited!

 

I’m a valet!

 

I love this day!

 

* * *

 

Is a really lovely day. Except from the fact that Alfred’s always running after me. (Now I have two stalkers.)

“You’re a valet?”

“Yes, Alfred. You asked that for the seventh time in one minute now.”

“But why you?”

“Why? Oh, I can tell you. Because I’m a well-behaved, good looking footman and you’re just some git who can’t even handle a tea tray.”

“That’s not fair! I want to be a valet!”  
  
“Then you have to work harder. And be manlier.”

“You think I’m not manly enough?”

“Right, that’s exactly what I think, Alfred.”

“And what can I do?”

“Don’t know. Style your hair?”

“Ay, that’s what I’ll do! Thank you, Jimmy!”

 

Why can’t a tree fall on him and smash his head or Mrs Patmore beat him to death with her pan? If only the world would be released from his dullness.

 

* * *

 

Am on my way to Lord Blackwood now. I’m so excited! It’s the first time I’m attending on a Lord. My hands are shaking a bit and my heart’s rather speedy. But I’m fine. I’m just so excited!!!

 

Oh, he was so nice to me! He even let me decide which cufflinks he should wear for dinner! Being a valet is very easy. And so exciting! I had to do his bow tie and help him with his dinner jacket. He kept talking to me in a very kind way all the time. Asked me about my work here and the house. Such a nice man!

I can’t get over how exciting my new job is!

 

* * *

 

Had a bit of free time. May have just been upstairs in Mr Barrow’s room. May have stolen some of his white shirts. (Well, _all_ of his white shirts to be precise). May have sneaked off to the laundry then. May have _accidentally_ dropped a red sock into the bag for the white clothes. And then I headed back to the servant’s hall to have a tea (and to not cause unwanted talking).

This is my revenge. Mr Barrow will no longer follow me and Alfred will get serious problems. Ha! I’m so crafty! Let’s see how this works.

 

…

 

Nothing’s happened so far. And it’s almost time for the servants' dinner…

 

* * *

 

 

“WHO WAS IN MY ROOM?!” Mr Barrow stomped into the kitchen, his voice _very_ loud and angry. He almost looked livid. He seemed to boil with rage and there were red spots on his face.

“WHO WAS IN MY ROOM?!” he thundered again. Didn’t know he can be that angry…

“Why?” Ivy asked, a bit intimidated by his furious appearance.

“BECAUSE ALL MY SHIRTS ARE GONE!”

“But Mr Barrow, calm down, no need to get enraged. They’ll be found again” Mr Bates said pacifyingly.

“NO, I WILL CERTAINLY NOT CALM DOWN BECAUSE I JUST FOUND THEM IN THE LAUNDRY BEING WASHED TOGETHER WITH SOME RED THING AND I BLOODY WANT TO KNOW WHO’S BRILLIANT WORK THIS IS!”

“I’m sure it was only an accident” Anna said.

“Really?” Mr Barrow asked ironically, obviously not in the mood for joking.

“You were down there today, weren’t you, Alfred?” Daisy suddenly asked.

I looked up, genuinely surprised. This was going to be easier than I thought…

“Err…yes…but…” Alfred looked already uncomfortable.

“And did you put them in the wrong bag?” Mr Barrow demanded.

“Why would I steal your shirts and-“

“Because you may think it’s kind of funny?”

“No, please!” Alfred pleaded. I could see that Mr Barrow didn’t trust his words. Splendid! This is very good so far…

“I saw him upstairs” I interfered. Had to give my input at the right time. Now was the right moment…

Mr Barrow turned to me. “Did you?” His voice was still livid.

I nodded. “Yes. I went upstairs to fetch something from my room when I saw him. He wasn’t in your room but-“

“How do you explain this, Alfred?”

Alfred looked terrified. “I...I didn’t do anything! I went to me room to style me hair!”

I couldn’t suppress an amused chuckle. He really took my advice!

Mr Barrow raised an eyebrow. His look was really scaring. But somewhat attractive…Err, no. Absolutely not.

“Jimmy said that I should style me hair if I want to be manlier!” Alfred defended himself.

Oh my God, he is bloody good at making himself look a fool!

“Well, you obviously weren’t very successful” I mumbled under my breath.

“Enough of this now!” Mr Barrow bellowed. ”What did you hope to achieve whit that, Alfred?”

The cup in Alfred’s hands was clanking rather alarmingly. He looked on his feet, obviously at a loss for words.

“Now? What’s your defence?”

Alfred remained silent. Then he finally voiced a meek “I didn’t do that.”

I felt something rise in my chest. Was it pity? But how could someone feel pity or compassion for this miserable creation of nature?

I decided to interfere once more. I had to get this done. And it was going to be a success!

“I think Alfred wanted to get the position I have now and tried to do something that obviously didn’t go very well, did it Alfred?”

He shot me a glance and by God I can’t tell what there was in his eyes. Anger? Hate? Incomprehension?

Without thinking much I continued, “It wasn’t your best idea to steal Mr Barrow’s shirts and put them into the right bag.” Too late I recognized that I shouldn’t have said this.

“How do you know that it was the right bag and not the left one?” Ivy questioned.

“Err, I mean…It wasn’t his best idea to put them into the wrong bag instead of the right, you know? The right one – not right as the contrary of left.”

O shit! Why is this happening?! It went so well until my voice decided to become independent and my mouth formed words before I even thought them through! (Because I’m always thinking everything through before I say it. Is the best way to prevent unwanted mistakes.)

Mr Barrow’s head turned to me. I could feel his look linger on me.

“James, would you meet me outside, please?”  
When I didn’t move he added, “Now.” His voice was cold and decidedly. Not as warm and soft as it was that night when we were sitting outside alone…Shut up! Mr Barrow isn’t even able to be warm and soft. He’s a stone!

I stood up and followed him with my head lowered. He began to speak (or should I say yell?) as soon as the door to the courtyard was closed.

“So you did this?” he demanded.

I said nothing.

“James!” His pale blue eyes were cutting through me. I shivered.

“Yes” I simply mumbled.

“And would you please tell me what has gotten into you? Because I don’t understand.” He still stared at me with those angry eyes. I hate it when his eyes look angry. They’re too beautiful to be angry. He is…certainly NOT beautiful! He’s everything, an angry, never truly smiling and bloody professional stone but he’s NOT beautiful!

But he’s still perfect…in his own way.

I’m going to kill myself right here on the spot if these stupid and totally meaningless thoughts don’t stop immediately! Because that’s what they are. Meaningless.

Now think of something to say Jimmy. He might be beautiful but he’s still standing there waiting for an answer. (Did I say he’s beautiful? He’s NOT!)

“You told me to be more subtle! I thought I was being exactly that!” I explained, now getting angry as well.

“Subtle? You think dying my shirts pink and putting the blame on Alfred is being _subtle_?”

“But one of the shirts is rather purple. Suits you quite well, I think.”

“James!”

“But Alfred deserves it!” I tried to defend myself. “It’s not me who’s to blame! It’s not my fault when Alfred is a stupid, daft, ginger-haired beanpole!”

“Oh, don’t you even dare to put the blame on him again! You are responsible for this! And I won’t let you get away with it this time!”

“But you won’t tell Mr Carson, will you?” I asked, alarmed. I didn’t want to lose my position. Imagine Alfred being a valet to Lord Blackwood! He can’t even tie a bow tie correctly! He would choke the poor aristocrat!

His look was still frightfully angry. He faltered but then sighed.

“No, I won’t tell Mr Carson. But don’t ask me why I’m doing this.” He looked away.

An uncomfortable silence began to settle between us.  

“So it wasn’t a good idea?” I asked meekly. (No, I’m not meek! I’m Jimmy Kent!)

“Absolutely not!”

“Are you mad at me now?”

“Of course I’m mad at you!” He turned to face me again. His features were a bit softer now and I thought to see a tiny bit of amusement in the corners of his mouth. But he didn’t smile. Of course not. Why should he smile? It’s only me who’s standing on front of him. Only the man who he used to love. But that person isn’t worth a little smile. Oh, how I hate him!

Does he love me? Does he still love me? I’m not so sure anymore.

But what’s it to me? I don’t love him (NEVER!) and I don’t need him anyway.

“But you have to admit that you don’t like Alfred.”

The amusement vanished immediately.

I tried. I really tried. But I suppose that wasn’t the cleverest thing to say…

“Don’t start that again! I thought we agreed that you’re the guilty part in this?” Mr Barrow snapped.

“But-“

“SHUT UP! I don’t want to hear one more word on that topic is that understood?”

“Yes, Mr Under-Butler. But I don’t understand why-“ I wanted to add but he cut me off.

“JAMES!”

“Okay, okay I’ll be quiet. But tell me one thing” I requested. (Oh, God, what am I doing here?)

“And what would that be?” he asked calmly but a little surprised.

“Why do you never smile?” This isn’t me. This is NOT me. There’s someone else talking. They stole my body and now control my voice.

“What?” He raised his eyebrows in confusion. Argh! This bloody beautiful eyes!

“Why can’t you smile just once? I mean truly smile? Not just smirk in that smug way.”

He looked completely caught off-guard. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“Err…no?”

“Of course you do! Don’t be so silly!“

“I’m not being silly! I just don’t understand what you’re talking about!”

I threw my head back in exasperation. “You’re exhausting!”

“Mind your words, James!”

I scowled at him. Just because he’s the under-butler he thinks he can do everything! That’s not bloody fair!

Nevertheless I shut my mouth.

For a terribly long moment we stood in full silence.

Suddenly Thomas chuckled.

Why does he chuckle? This is deadly serious!

He grinned and said, supressing a laugh, “I think I know what I’ll do with you.”

What does that mean? What does he imply?

“Excuse me?” I asked.

He turned to me his eyes no more angry but somewhat mocking. “I said I won’t give you away to Carson. But I won’t let you get away with it either without a little punishment.”

I could only stare at him. Punishment? Oh, no. Please not.

“You will wear one of the pink shirts tomorrow. The whole day.”

“What?!“ He can’t do this! I’m a man! I don’t wear pink shirts!

“And no complaining! Otherwise I will tell Carson…”

“No! No, please not! I’ll do everything! Just don’t tell Carson!”

“Okay. I take you literally.” He smirked.

 

Oh God. Now everyone will laugh at me! I’ll be the object of mockery and taunt!

 

* * *

 

I am wearing one of his shirts! I don’t know why, but my heart seems to be beating faster at the only thought that he has worn this just a couple of days ago! It still smells like him. Ohmylord. I’m going to die. Right now.

 

What?

 

WHAT?!

 

No. NO! I said NO!

 

I mean it’s embarrassing to run around wearing a pink shirt but it has nothing to do with him! The shirt could have been Alfred’s or Carson’s as well. (On second thought I’d prefer one of Mr Barrow’s shirts. Alfred’s shirts are all dirty and smelly and Carson’s are much too big for my small stature. But Mr Barrow’s shirt fits quite well, though the sleeves are a bit too long.)

 

It was quite embarrassing this morning. When I entered the servant’s hall everyone burst into laughter. Including Mr Barrow! I hate him! Why is he doing this to me?

 

“Oi, Jimmy! Whatever happened to your shirt?” Bates asked, laughing.

I shot him a furious glare. “That’s none of your bloody business” I frowned.

 

This is demoting.

 

Was even more embarrassing when I went upstairs to dress Lord Blackwood for breakfast.

“Oh, is that the new fashion? Pink uniforms. Interesting. But not so good if you want to be taken seriously, don’t you think?”

“I agree, my Lord” I voiced hoarsely. Why does he have to rub it in my face that I’m looking ridiculous?

 

“The colour flatters your eyes” Mr Barrow teased quietly when I was just about to go outside to hide from all the stupid creatures pointing and laughing at me whenever I entered their field of vision.

“Thank you very much” I hissed stressing every word angrily.

He just smirked. Of bloody course. Seems like he’s never doing anything else.

“You don’t have to wear it at dinner. I think neither Carson nor His Lordship would like the sight of a pink footman.”

“I’m not pink! I’m just wearing your damn shirt!”

“So you’re rejecting my kind offer?”

“What?! No! I wouldn’t have worn it at dinner anyway.”  
  
“Is that so?”

“Yes it is! And now leave me alone. I need to drown myself in despair.”

“Good luck!” he taunted and then waltzed away.

Rude man.

 

* * *

 

Dinner went well. Luckily. And I didn’t wear his bloody pink shirt. White shirt, white tie, black livery. A perfect footman.

Tomorrow the guests are leaving so I’m not a valet anymore. Displeased.

And I’ll certainly have to bear all those shitty comments on the pink-shirt-affair for another whole week!

Did I already say that I hate this household?

 

* * *

 

Just cornered Mr Barrow. He was sneaking inside through the door from the courtyard.

“Where did you go?” I asked.

He spun around and almost lost his hat.

“Jimmy! What are you doing here?!”

“Nothing. Just asking you where you went.”

“And why do you think I would tell you?”

“Because I deserve to know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. After all this humiliation today caused by _you,_ I think I have the right to know it.”

He snorted. “That was your own fault. I didn’t dye my shirts just to tease you.”

“Nonetheless” I insisted.

He rolled his eyes at me but answered my question. “I went into the village to buy some new shirts. My old ones are all pink, you know? Some annoying footman decided it would be quite funny to have them washed with a red sock.”

Did he say _annoying footman_? I’m not annoying!

“But you provoked it!” I countered.

He blinked. “How’s that?”

“Because you’re following me all the time and mocking me in front of everybody.”

“Who’s following who?” he asked.

Well, shit.

He was right. I was just following him down the corridor.

“That’s irrelevant!” I said angrily.

“Would you just get back to your work? You’re getting on my nerves, James.”

And with that he walked away, leaving me alone in the deserted corridor.

He’s so annoying!

 

* * *

 

I’m sitting in the courtyard now. Maybe a bit of fresh air will help to calm me down. I failed. I completely failed. Alfred won’t get sacked and no one respects me anymore. Is better when I stay alone now. No conversation. I’ll never talk to anyone again. I think I’ll be staying outside forever.

But, as if he knew I would be here, the door opened and Mr Barrow stepped outside.

I looked away. I didn’t want to speak with him now. I made a promise to myself to never talk again so go away!

“James?”

He saw me. Of course.

“Hm.”

“Why are you out here?”

This was quite similar to our other conversation a few days ago. When he brought me cake. Was such a lovely night…

“Why do you always have to ask that stupid question? I’m not in the mood for talking” I mumbled under my breath.

Shit. Now I am talking.

He lighted a cigarette and sat down next to me on the small bench. A deep inhale and smoke poured out into the approaching night. He was silent. We sat like this for a few minutes until he finally said in a quiet voice,

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to humiliate you by wearing that shirt.”

I glanced up. Was he really saying that or was I hallucinating?

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s alright” I replied, my voice but a whisper.

“No, I mean it” he said. “I understand that you can’t stand Alfred and I admit that it’s not easy to get along with his, well, minor intelligence. But you don’t have to treat him like that. He’s not all bad, you know?”

“Like you.” The words were out before I could stop them.

I felt his eyes on me. “What do you mean?” His voice was calm and soft, not angry as I’d expected.

“I mean…I mean you’re always so smug and rude and professional and you never show any other emotion. I thought you’d never change but then that night when…when we sat outside like we do now…you were much more…likeable. Why can’t you always be like this?”

 

Oh, no. I was risking my neck while talking such things!

 

But he just sat there, looking at the ground before him.

“That’s…nice of you” he eventually whispered. “I don’t know but I think I’m trying to hide my real emotions because I know they’ll only cause trouble.” His voice was so quiet that I almost couldn’t hear him.

I didn’t know what to answer. My head was empty. There were no more words. Just a thought. One lonely thought drifting through my troubled mind. A thought I never thought I would ever think. But there it was and I couldn’t get rid of it. It was so strong and it was connected with such an overwhelming feeling I only felt when he was there. I couldn’t explain this feeling. It possessed my whole body and I couldn’t fight it.

 

“I love you.”

 

“What?”

 

_What?_

_WHAT_ did I just say?!

 

“I mean- I wanted to say-“

I couldn’t think straight anymore. This feeling grew stronger with every second and successfully extinguished every other thought or doubt I might have had a few moments ago.

I barely realized that I was leaning closer. There was this expression in his eyes. Was it…fear? I never saw Thomas afraid. Really afraid and scared. But that didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered. It was only him and me sitting together on that extremely small bench in the chilly night, our faces only inches apart.

When my lips brushed against his my heart seemed to explode. The feeling was now taking control over me but I didn’t even want to fight it. It felt so good, so sweet and so liberating. All the feels that had been locked away for too long now filled my every bone and I was happy. I was truly happy. His lips were soft and my heart skipped a beat as he tenderly kissed me back. It felt like an eternity and I totally lost myself in this kiss. Nothing had ever felt so good and so right.

When we detached he looked at me, searching my features for every tiny bit of shame or regret. But he didn’t find any.

 

“I wasn’t anticipating this” he said after a moment of silence.

I looked at him.

“But it’s better than everything I might have been anticipating.”

And then he smiled. He truly smiled and the smile reached his eyes and he looked so happy.

And so perfect.

His pale blue eyes were shining in the night enlightened by the bright moonlight. I grabbed his hand and smiled shyly.

He reached out his other hand and gently touched my cheek. I could feel my face burn but I didn’t look away. His eyes were hypnotizing me and I felt my all senses shut and my body was left to only feel. Feel his presence and tenderness. His hand on my cheek. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would jump out of my chest and dance in the cool air. A pleasant shiver went down my spine.

He must have felt it because he said,

“Do you feel cold?”

No, Thomas. Nothing feels cold when you’re here.

When I didn’t answer he suggested, “Let’s go inside.”

I nodded and followed him without another word.

 

It was already very late and the house was dark. No one was awake anymore. Except from us. We sneaked up the stairs and into Thomas’ room.

Minutes later we lay together on his bed. I snuggled up to him and he gently wrapped his arms around me. He placed a loving kiss on my forehead and I swear I could die! He was so soft and romantic! I always knew he still loved me!

“Jimmy?”

“Hm?” I mumbled sleepily.

“You still haven’t told me where you got this spider from.”

Smacked him. “Oh shut up Thomas!”


End file.
